


Consequences

by Hekate1308



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Epilogue, M/M, of sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 22:56:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19711183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekate1308/pseuds/Hekate1308
Summary: Really, it was no surprise that he hadn’t noticed. A lot had been going on, after all, and he and Aziraphale had still been busy dealing with the aftermath of Armageddon and everything.





	Consequences

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this idea on tumblr and couldn't resist. Enjoy!

Really, it was no surprise that he hadn’t noticed. A lot had been going on, after all, and he and Aziraphale had still been busy dealing with the aftermath of Armageddon and everything.

Still – he should have paid better attention.

If he had, he wouldn’t stand trial in Hell, and this time, in person.

With no chance of escape.

They didn’t even waste time explaining to him that they had realized what they had done. There was a bath full of holy water already waiting for him.

As Hastur gleefully shoved him into it, his last thought was of Aziraphale, as he had always deep down known that it would be. _End of the line for me, angel. Hope you can get away_. And then, for the very last time, he found himself praying. _I know I’m not worth much, never have been… but save him, please, oh Lord._

It was when he emerged from the tub, gasping for air he didn’t need, that it registered somewhere in his brain that this hadn’t gone the way it should have.

The demons were staring at him.

“Are you sure this is the demon Crowley, Hastur?” Lord Beelzebub demanded. “Not another angel masquerading as him?”

“I am sure, milord.”

“Heaven” he breathed, “He really has gone native.”

Crowley was looking down ta his suit. Wet and ruined, of course. None of the other demons ever appreciated what it took to look stylish, these days –

“Well, this has been fun, but I really need to get to a dry-cleaner’s” he said as calmly as he could, climbing out of the bath. “I assume I can go, since the sentence has technically been carried out?”

None of the other demons would even try and touch him now, of course. The risk of melting due to him being covered in holy water was too great.

He got to his Bentley as quickly as he could and drove to the angel’s shop. Maybe Aziraphale had heard what was going on and had managed to miracle away the holy water just in time? It sounded just crazy enough to be possible.

He snapped his fingers to open the (naturally) locked door and ran in. “Angel! I don’t know what exactly is going on, but something’s afoot!”

He assumed Aziraphale would appreciate the allusion. He’d caught an old Sherlock Holmes film on TV the other night.

“Crowley – what –“

He turned to see Aziraphale staring at him – even his mouth was hanging open.

“Yes, I know, that’s holy water and by now I should be nothing but a small puddle for Hastur to mop up but I am not, in fact I’ve never felt better, so why don’t you get me a towel and we can –“

“Crowley” he said, and then, apparently deciding he needed to do so again, repeated. “Crowley.”

“Yes, still here, still wet, still confused, but well, let’s agree that the still here part is the most important thing for –“

“Crowley, don’t you know?”

“Know what? That Hell tried to execute me again? That I just bathed in holy water like it was nothing? That my kind will at least be scared stiff of me for –“

“Not your kind.”

“What?”

“The demons” Aziraphale said slowly, advancing towards him, “Are no longer _your kind_ , Crowley.”

“I don’t understand what you –“

“You are not a demon anymore” he continued. “You are an angel again, Crowley.”

The thought was to ridiculous to process. “What?”

“I said, you’re an angel again.”

“I heard you, but that’s not _possible_! You know that I fell! Granted, I didn’t mean to, and as I always say, I mostly sauntered vaguely downwards, but –“

“Crowley, I would be able to feel it if you were still a demon. You’re not a demon anymore. You’re an angel now.”

“But – but how!?”

“God works in mysterious ways” was all he answered.

“Oh. Great.” Crowley threw his hands up in the air. “Just for the record” he then shouted into the heavens, or rather, into the ceiling of the bookshop, “The next time someone decides to change my entire species, it would just be the polite thing to do to TELL ME ABOUT IT!!!”

* * *

_I do, of course, work in mysterious ways. It is part of the ineffable plan._

_Just like it was always a part of that very same plan that one of those who fell would not do so because he was evil but because he wasn’t._

_It might have been what human philosophers call unfair, but nothing would have worked out otherwise._

_And I did give him his reward in due time._

* * *

It took Aziraphale a while to calm Crowley down. It was probably for the best – it gave him time to gather his own thoughts.

It had been something of a shock to see the demon – former demon – walk in and not feel the usual twinge that told him something evil was near. Not that he’d ever considered to be truly that evil, deep down; but still – there had been one side, and there had been the other, and they had known where they stood.

Not anymore.

“I mean” Crowley said, rubbing his hair dry with the towel Aziraphale had miracled him, “It’s kind of personal, the very least I could have gotten is a memo –“

“I suppose it’s some sort of reward.”

“Reward? What for? We ruined the ineffable plan, remember?”

“Yes, and maybe that was part of the plan too.”

He laid down the towel on one of the few surfaces that wasn’t covered in books and stared at him. “You think us ruining the plan was _part_ of the plan?”

“It would explain a few things, don’t you think?” Aziraphale said patiently.

“But – but –“ Crowley thought about it for a second, then rubbed his head. “Oh God. I need alcohol. Do you still have that Chateauneuf du Pape?”

“As fresh as the day we sobered ourselves up.”

“Thank Sa – Thank Heavens for that”. Crowley shuddered. “I am never going to get used to that.”

“Of course you will. Just give it time.”

“How much time? I was a demon for 6000 years, you know.”

“Yes, but – Crowley, let’s face it” Aziraphale tried, handing him a glass, “You weren’t a very good demon, were you.”

“Not being good is part of the job description, angel.”

“Crowley that’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“I guess” he sighed. “I still think the M25 was a stroke of genius, though.”

“That almost kept you from reaching Tadfield in time” he replied.

“We can’t all hitch ride in mortals.”

“Yes you could” Aziraphale reminded him, “You probably can do a lot more things than you could before, now –“

“Really? I don’t feel any different.”

“I know, and that’s probably because you used to be an angel once and are again one now.”

Crowley emptied his glass. “And the day started out so well.”

“What were you doing?”

“You know, the usual – gluing a few pennies to the sidewalk.” He paused. “I probably should have realized something was amiss when they wouldn’t stick.”

Aziraphale refrained from pointing out that even if they had, it wouldn’t have counted much as an evil deed. He didn’t think most people even still picked up pennies when they saw one. “Well, at least it’s good news – hardly anyone can blame us nor for working together when –“

“Aziraphale” Gabriel’s smooth voice interrupted them, “We need to talk. This was a neat little trick you pulled off, but –“

He sighed. This was rather inconvenient. “Gabriel.”

“Ah, and consorting with the enemy again, I see. Well –“

But by this time, Crowley had apparently worked through most of his existential crisis, thank God. “Sorry” he said, standing up, “But who are you talking about, _boss_?”

Gabriel stared at him, realized who or rather what he was talking to, and took a step back. “But – you – this is not possible!”

“Apparently it is. A miracle from the Almighty herself. Do you want me to guzzled some holy water to prove it?”

“So you see, if we were not meant to foil the Great Plan, why would she reward Crowley like this?” Aziraphale said, feeling rather triumphant. “It seems to me if she were angry, she’d have smote us were we stood instead.”

“I – I – But demons don’t turn back into angels! It’s the other way round – and a one-way street!”

“Well, not anymore” Crowley replied.

“You – you – you are going to hear from me!”

“Obviously, when I have miracles to perform and evil plans to thwart” Crowley said.

Gabriel glared at him one more time, then disappeared.

“Alright, that was kind of fun” Crowley conceded. “What do you think are they going to do now?”

Aziraphale thought about it. “They are probably going to call the back channels they don’t have –“

“Obviously –“

“And see if this is indeed true, then they’ll hear about you and the holy water –“

“Which will confuse them all the more –“

“And then they’ll probably decide not to think about it because it just hurts their heads and they don’t know what to do.”

“Hot nothing against that” Crowley said.

“Me neither.”

“O-kay” he drawled. “So here we are. Two angels on the same side.”

“We already were before” Aziraphale reminded him.

“Yes, I just meant now it’s official. So how about I tempt you – wait that doesn’t work anymore, does it – how about I bless you with lunch? Sound good?”

“Oh yes” he replied, beaming, “That sounds absolutely wonderful.”

And so they went to the Ritz, as once again a nightingale sang in Berkley Square.

The difference was that this time, two angels heard it sing.


End file.
